


Oblivion

by LadyCamillus



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Berserker Thor, Gen, M/M, thor gets really depressed and then wrecks stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:06:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCamillus/pseuds/LadyCamillus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>unbetad! all mistakes are my own</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oblivion

A day passed and all was well. Thor had been greeted home to celebrations, honors, friends, and drinks.

A week passed and he was happy. The festivities had lasted for three consecutive days until he had drank himself past remembering the events of the night. He woke to two maidens and half eaten watermelon in his chambers. He chuckled and pulled the woman in his arms closer before letting sleep take him again.

A month passed and all of the nuances were dealt with now. There had been hours of council meetings to discuss the repercussions of the battles as well as travels to sites of the skirmishes to help and give support for the reconstruction of what had been lost. There were many innocent casualties but such is the nature of war. Thor did what he could to give his condolences to those who had lost their loved ones.

A year passed and the realms remained peaceful. This was perhaps the longest duration of peace that the nine realms had seen in centuries. Thor was grateful for the opportunity to give his full attention to his friends and those around him. It had been so long since he had privilege of giving the people his full attention and he meant to take advantage of this peace for surely it would not last much longer.

But it did.

A decade passed and Thor felt dissatisfied. He had not raised Mjolnir outside of sparring since the time of that final battle against his brother. Against Loki. The final moments would replay in his mind almost every night before sleep took him. He had struck Loki back and his brother had hit the ground in a cloud of dust. Thor lunged and brought the hammer down upon the place where Loki was lain, but instead of armor and resistance, the blow struck rock and solid ground. Thor expected his brother to appear and strike him from behind, but as he straightened, alert and searching, there was no sign of him. Loki had vanished.

A century passed and Thor was restless. The peace had ended several decades early but the conflicts that arose were trivial, and each fray, for they did not deserve the title “war,” was quelled in less than a year. There were few beings in the realms that could stand up to the might of Thor. The celebrations grew dull and his enjoyment was faked. He took no maidens to his bed these days.

A night passed and Thor left.

He had lost count of days and years, but Thor felt it must have been centuries that had passed since he had left the golden realm of Asgard. He had donned the clothes of commoners, though at first this did little to keep people from recognizing him. Years passed, however, and his visage took on a rugged and traveled look, allowing him to stay at inns and taverns without preamble. He couldn't remember what he had started traveling for, but he continued on his search anyways. Eventually he would find something to fill the void that had occupied his chest for these last centuries. On nights when the nothingness overwhelmed him, he would call down brutal storms to beat upon the land. Thunder and hail would crash around him as he let a pure, unrestrained fury consume him. The rage would ripple through his body and warm him as electricity snapped through his veins. It felt good to feel again, even if what he felt was an undirected anger. Anything to replace the hollowness if even for a moment. These times would always pass though, and the anger was short lived with no concrete source to focus it on. The void would remain empty. He would continue his aimless journey.

The nights when he let rage take over his sensible mind grew longer and more frequent. There was little that could bring him back from this state, and he had little reason to will himself from it when all that awaited him on the other side was numbness and a lack of purpose. He was conscious enough to find remote locations to take his rage out on—he had no intentions of causing anyone harm. He stood in the center of a rock field and lightning struck around him creating trenches in the harsh landscape. The gale force winds tossed the rubble around him as though they were leaves caught in a breeze. Mjolnir gripped firmly in his hand, he began to swing her in his grip before leaping and crushing boulders, relishing in the feeling of the blow that would turn them to little more than dust. His thoughts were minimal and animalistic in his fury. There was pleasure to be found in this destruction, and he had purpose in this state, there was no question as to what he was doing or what looking for, simply to control and destroy. As he sent Mjolnir flying from him and felling a cliff into a cloud of dust, he was reminded of that battle so many years ago. That, he figured, was the moment that he had lost his purpose. Though the battle had ended, there had been no victory, no resolution, in its end. If anything he had lost that day. Loki had taken more than his presence away from Thor that day, and Thor let this loss fuel his anger. The rain pounded harder, the winds stronger, and the thunder louder as the rage focused on a concrete reason.

The loss of hope.

When Loki was there, Thor had held on to the belief that there was still a chance that they could mend their broken relation, that they could be brothers once more. It didn't matter that they were enemies in that moment, they could have centuries together and that could change, Thor would make it change. Those centuries had passed though and there hadn't been even a whisper that his brother still existed anymore. How could you change something you could not touch, whether it be physically or with words and actions? Though Thor had never been able to identify the feeling, he knew now that he felt powerless. For all his strength and command, he could do nothing. He had done nothing for far too long though and it had killed him, it had created this insatiable void within him, and it had dragged him from the comforts of home in search of an appeasement. He had not found it. The void had grown and he became more discontent with every passing century, decade, year, day, and minute until there was nothing left to him but a hollow shell of what used to be. Thor welcomed the onset of rage that periodically took over. It gave him life compared to the emptiness, and now with a focal point in mind there was no remorse as he let loose. This was no longer a fit of boredom or a poor means of unburdening himself, this was lifetimes of frustration and anger. He was furious with Loki, with himself, with all of the things that had gone wrong to bring them to this point. Thor had every right to unleash his turmoil on this barren landscape lest it consume and destroy him.

He shouted Loki's name to the sky as lightning assaulted the terrain. He let curses and reminders of broken promises tear past his lips has he shattered boulders that the wind whipped past him. There was no restraint in this storm, and it would devour everything in it's path without mercy. Thor snarled as he felt pieces of shattered rock, thrown by the wind, cut into his skin. The sharp pain heightened his senses and fueled his rage. His blood was burning with the force of the light coursing through him and his vision turned white with it. On the gusts of wind, Thor imagined he heard Loki's voice. “Brother,” it said. The familiarity of the voice stung worse than any cut from the rubble. He hated this pain and wished to drown it out. More lightning, rain, and wind were called forth under his command and his body took further damage has he swung at flying rocks. He didn't care. “Brother, you are killing yourself,” the imagined voice sounded again. Yes, he was. He would let this final storm consume him and be done with the emptiness that he had lived for nearly as long as he could remember. Suddenly an energy, not his own, cracked through the air and struck him, the force of it knocking him down. Shock mingled with his anger as he whipped around to see what had struck him.

Across the damaged plane was a figure, his black hair and cloak snapping around him as pushed his way through the winds. How dare this man strike at him, how dare interfere with his fury? Thor stood and took Mjolnir in his hand, swinging her, before launching himself at the figure. He landed harshly in front of him, throwing the ground up in his wake, and swung his hammer with brute force. The man disappeared though in a flash of magic, causing Thor's strike at nothing to throw him off balance. He roared and turned to strike again as the figure appeared behind him. “Thor!” the man yelled as Thor once again struck at him only to connect with nothing as he vanished a reappeared a short ways away.

“Call off this storm, Thor! There is nothing to be gained in this.” It infuriated Thor further that he heard Loki's voice in this stranger, and the power in his veins pulsed harder as he felt his eyes crackling with lightning.

Thor laughed but it was a harsh sound. “Nothing to be gained?” he shouted back. “What would you know of nothing? There is _everything_ to be gained in this.” He pointed Mjolnir towards the man and channeled the lightning in his blood to strike out at him. The man dodged again, but barely. “Nothing has been my companion for centuries,” he continued, “and it is far from nothing that is achieved in this storm!” Thor launched himself at the man again, but this time he did not disappear. A staff materialized in his hands and he used it to stop the hammer's blow.

“Your anger blinds you, Thor. I beg you open your eyes.” His voiced was strained on Thor's weight as he held against his force. “Listen to your brother!” he hissed. Confusion dripped through Thor's anger and his strength faltered for a second at those words. This man was not his... 

The man used this second disengage from Thor and use Thor's momentum to send him falling forward. Thor got to his knees but before he could stand up he was hit with a blow from the staff that sent him rolling onto his back. Immediately the man dropped his knee onto Thor's chest, knocking the wind from him, and pushed the butt of the staff into his neck, preventing him from regaining the breath he had just lost. “Open your eyes, brother,” the man said insistently and Thor struggled to focus on his face.

The wind and rain were still whipping around them and the power in Thor's blood was still rushing. He willed it to settle and was able to take it from a burning force to a crackling buzz. As he looked upon the man pinning him down, he saw familiar green eyes staring down at him. As his body stilled under the man, the pressure from the staff was alleviated somewhat from his windpipe. “Loki...?” he asked hesitantly as he regained his breath.

The man let out a sigh of relief as the name left his mouth. The staff vanished from his grip and he brought his hands to either side of Thor's face and wiped at a cut under his eye. “Yes, you fool, it's me.”

The wind all but died as relief flooded through Thor, and the rain lessened to a light shower. Thor sat up, dislodging Loki from his chest and gripped him tightly in an embrace. “It's you,” he choked burying his face in Loki's neck. “You're here.”

“I am here,” Loki repeated as ran his hand over Thor's hair, doing his best to straighten it. Thor's body began shaking as he clutched his brother closer, unable to help the sobs that were overtaking him. Loki pressed his lips to Thor's head and whispered again, “I am here.”


End file.
